


Service

by SaphireCorona



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Home Alone, Ricks daughter, Smut, Swearing, carl replaced with OFC, comic timeline, i dont know, obviously, some tweaking, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaphireCorona/pseuds/SaphireCorona
Summary: Rick is constantly having to tell his daughter to stay away from Negan but when he leaves Alexandria for a night she breaks the rules.





	Service

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was rereading the comics to stave off my TV Walking Dead withdrawals and found enough inspiration for this jumble of words. 
> 
> Takes place (comic-timeline-wise) after Rick has defeated Negan and taken him as a prisoner of Alexandria. (Which I have always found strange but I guess it's better than killing him. I would be devastated if Kirkman killed him off.)
> 
> Some of the character details have been changed. For example, OFC is Rick's only child. It's as if Carl never existed!

           “Dammit, Chastity, I told you to stop going down there!” My father had lost his temper, blown a fuse, snapped - whatever you wanna call it - in the middle of the kitchen while I poured myself a glass of orange juice from the Hilltop. I avoided his knitted brows and stern voice as I put the jar back in the fridge. 

“I was just helping out. I didn’t do anything but give him his food and leave.” My rebuttal was much quieter than his outburst. He had told me since his first gray hair that I was the reason for his premature aging but I refused to believe that was the case nowadays. I was twenty three and free from being the scapegoat for his incessant stress. Taking a sip, I finally turned towards him. 

“You know what I’m talking about, Chastity.” He could see through the lies that rolled off my tongue. “He’s dangerous. You know that. You can’t keep going down there and talking to him.” 

“He’s been locked up in a prison cell. He’s not going to do anything.” I shouldn’t have been even having this argument with him. I thought that once we had found peace in the world again by bringing an end to the Saviours that he would finally loosen his grip on his overprotective reins. 

“He hates me and would do anything to get back at me for what I did.” He was at his wit’s ends with my rebellion. I was smart like the man that raised me with fairytales and kindheartedness as a child and then shaped me with determination and a tilted moral compass as a survivor. Despite all we had been through, he acted like he was afraid I would be manipulated by a man who had been locked up in our basement for the past year.  “You’re my  _ daughter _ , the only thing I have left. What makes you think he’s suddenly turned over a new leaf? Hmm?”   

I shrugged listlessly. “I’m well aware of the circumstances.” The irritation in my voice was unintentional but hard to keep contained. He breathed a sigh in an apologetic fashion and rested his hands on the back of the maple kitchen chair. 

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t know what I’d do if something did.” At the end of the day, after he clocked out from being the leader of a small but densely populated town, he was, and always would be, my overprotective father. There was nothing that anyone could do to change that. “Promise me you’ll stay the hell away from him.” 

I couldn’t help but feel like I was breaking a vow before I even made it. “Yeah, yeah, I promise.” 

 

\---

 

A few days had passed and I had managed to keep to my word and avoid the locked door that lead down to the lower level of the house by staying outside and helping with whatever repairs or maintenance needed to be done. There was plenty to do which made it easier on my willpower but I was riddled with temptation every time I walked past the door on my way upstairs every evening before I went to bed. 

“Hey, Chastity!” Olivia, the plump squirrely woman that had somehow grown brave enough to be the one to hand deliver the breakfasts, lunches and dinners to Negan everyday, ran up to me as I made my way to the armory to clean the guns out of sheer boredom and need for a distraction. 

“What’s up, Olivia?” I pushed the dark brown hair away from my blue eyes that were remarkably similar to my dad’s. 

“Has your dad left already? I was hoping to add a few things to his list before him and Aaron went out on their run.” She was trying to conceal the fact that her lungs were gasping for air. I scratched the back of my neck uneasily at the reminder.

“Yeah, they left at sun up, sorry.” He hadn’t left of course without another lecture about staying out of trouble and by trouble he meant the now forbidden room that was under my own roof. Talk about being within temptation. 

“It’s alright, I’ll catch ‘em next time.” She smiled with brisk positivity and looked down at her watch. “Oh, shoot! I told Tara I’d help her in the infirmary fifteen minutes ago! Would you mind, uh, getting you-know-who his food.” She skirted around his name as if she would turn to stone if she spoke it. “Not that he deserves it.” Her attitude was shared among many of the people in Alexandria but I took no part in it. 

“Sure, I can take care of it.” My outward appearance was vacant and disengaged but I couldn’t help but acknowledge the chilling twinge of excitement that crawled down my spine. She touched a hand to my arm in appreciation without the slightest idea of how grateful I was for her previous commitments. Once she turned her back to me I stopped fighting back the urge to smile. 

 

\---

 

“Ah, there’s daddy’s little princess.” He grinned and affably rested his interlocked hands behind his head. His greeting made me uncomfortable for all the wrong reasons.  “After daddy- fucking-dearest’s speech I was sure as shit that I wasn’t going to ever see you again.” The downside to having him in the basement all the time was the fact that he could hear every raised voice as clear as an incoming freight train. “Ya miss me? ‘Cause I sure as fucking fuck missed you.” 

Without parting my lips with a reply, I handed him his tray of food, that Olivia had prepared for him, through the slotted opening of his cell door. He stood up from his cot and took it from me with a wink that made my cheeks feel warmer than the rest of me. 

“Thanks, doll.” He was just wearing a plain white t shirt and a pair of jeans but he still managed to look ruggedly handsome. His black hair was kept somewhat short along with the black and gray dappled stubble on his cheeks and along his jaw. I had heard the pastor once say that the devil disguises himself as the angel of light. Negan certainly was the devil but he didn’t need to pretend to be anything but his self assured, charming, witty self. “That a new shirt? Looks good on you.” The way his deeply rich hazel eyes looked me over gave me the feeling that he had something else besides his food that he wanted to devour. 

“Enjoy your breakfast.” Before I had come down the staircase, I had bartered with myself that I would keep the exchange between us short and sweet. Just long enough for me to get a glimpse of him and hear that sickly sweet provocative voice before taking off and pretending that I still had yet to shatter my already split and tarnished words. 

“You’re not even gonna keep me company while I eat...whatever the fuck this is?” His hands wrapped around the steel bars as he tried to coax me into keeping my feet rooted in front of him. I opened my mouth to speak against him but he already seemed to know what I was going to say. “I know Rick-daddy-Grimes left this morning.” He chuckled darkly. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

I bit my lip in vacillation but before I knew it, I was pulling out the folding metal chair and taking a seat. It was true that the man before me had killed a few of the people I once called my friends, and had attempted to kill my father, but in all fairness, it was no different than what our people had done to his. In fact, I was certain we had killed vastly more of his people, which may have put us ahead in the race of amoral actions. I kept an open mind about it all and had tried to convince my dad more often than not that we were no different from Negan and the Saviors. We both wanted to survive and create a better world for ourselves. His ways were just a bit more... barbaric. 

My mother prided herself in my open mind and unbiased, thoughtful opinions on the world. She said it made me a better person and before she died, she told me that my dad would need it if he was going to create a new and better life for us. 

Despite her final wishes, my attempts to dissuade my father, the fearless leader, from constantly trying to outmatch and undermine a man that I believed could ultimately be reasoned with, were in vain. Time after time he would say, “This is not our life, Chastity. We can't live in a world where someone like him exists. I'm going to kill him. I have to.”

I looked to Negan and he smiled haughtily. 

So much for killing him. 

“What's new in fuckwit-ville?” He offered me the granola bar off his tray. It was raisin. He didn't like raisins.

I shrugged. “Jocelyn had her kid.” I tore it out if the package and broke the corner off before popping it in my mouth. “Like we need another one of those.” 

He leaned his side against the barrier and watched me with his arms crossed over his chest. “You people are like fucking rabbits out there.” I hummed a laugh in agreement through my chewing and nodded my head. “Must be nice. My dick and I have been going stir crazy down here.” He was a crass man but it didn't diminish his appeal in my eyes. 

“Something wrong with your hands?” I teased as I propped my boots up on the bars with my ankles crossed for comfort. 

“No.” He paused as if he was trying to catch a thought midair. “Unless there's nothing wrong with yours.” His endearing yet suggestive smile showcased his charm well. For the past year, he had almost always made some sort of humorous and lewd comment to me each time we spoke. It wasn't the best form of attention but I still enjoyed it.

    He digressed with a sad sigh. “What about you? You gotten laid lately?” His blunt question caused me to choke on the last bit of the granola bar. “Wait,” he held up a hand to stop me from defending myself, “don't answer that. I already know. You're off limits to every prick in this place. No one's got the fucking balls to try and get into Rick’s prodigal daughter.” He inhaled with sharp conceitedness. “Well, except for me.” 

Rather than try to fabricate some sort of story about an imaginary date or love interest to prove him wrong, I confirmed his suspicions with a blushed, subdued nod. I had been a teenager when the dead no longer wanted to stay dead and had missed out on much of the normalities of awkward adolescence. After I had turned 18, we had found Alexandria and I thought I was going to have a chance at making up for lost time, but once my father became the leader, he took the idea of an intimidating overprotective dad to an unheard of level and anyone from the opposite side of the gender pool scarcely looked my way. 

“Ah, sweetheart, that breaks my fucking heart.” He seemed genuinely concerned about my love life, or lack thereof. “I mean, your dad’s probably getting more fucking action than you are!” I crossed my arms to reflect his stance as he went on. “Have you even been taken out on a proper fucking date? Had a nice dinner made for you before getting screwed for dessert?” 

“Is that what a proper date is?” I laughed to hide the fact that I was suddenly pining for a romantic gesture from a man that my father had sentenced to a life behind bars. His disposition was a bit vindictive and sadistic but I wasn't blind to the fact that he was inordinately attractive. His cool and resilient, confident attitude only added to that fact. Not to mention his inherent ability to lead, which, after watching my father lead a group of strangers through a world of chaos, was ingrained in me to be an admirable trait. 

He was patiently waiting for a reply with a knowing smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “No,” I sighed somewhat dejectedly, “I can’t say that I have. Been a bit busy lately what with the world ending and a lunatic trying to take half our supplies.” I joked with a lip biting grin. I couldn’t help but go easy on him for his crimes. My dad had killed men in cold blood for breathing too close to our camp when we were on the road. I loved him dearly, as any daughter would love their parent, but he wasn’t always as civilized as he claimed to be. 

He took my ridicule in stride. “A very handsome lunatic.” He corrected. I hummed to neither disagree nor give my outright honesty on how correct he was. “If you ask me, it seems it would be my responsibility to show you how a super hot girl should be treated.” The smile he followed his suggestion with made my chest ache with rebellious longing. “Come on, don’t fucking tell me it’s never crossed your mind, doll.” 

My joints popped and cracked as I stood back up on my feet. “Well, you and I both know that I can’t let you out so it doesn’t matter much what I think about now does it?” He groaned at the missed opportunity for freedom. The sound of my father’s return through the strong steel gates of Alexandria made me close my eyes in annoyance that my visit was cut short. “You done? I’ll take the tray back.” I held my hand out with enough vulnerability that showed I trusted he wouldn’t take my arm and break it. Before placing the tray in my grasp, he gripped my wrist and yanked me towards the only thing that stood between us. 

“Think about it.” His demand was low and rough and made the air in my chest get lost on its way out. He chuckled at my staggered reaction and gave me back the tray. “Get going, doll, before daddy finds out where you’ve been.” 

 

\---

 

For the remainder of my week I was restless. I had gnawed my nails down until there was nothing left. I had barely gotten any sleep. I couldn’t seem to hold a conversation with anyone without my thoughts leaving my present state of mind to wonder when I would be able to sneak down to see him again. It had been nearly five days and I missed talking to him. He had more to talk about than the same damn thing that everyone else had to say. We didn’t have to talk about food, supplies, repairs, the dead and how we were going to survive the next winter. In an aberrant way, he gave my life a sense of normalcy. Without the occasional pleasure of his company, I felt like I was having withdrawals from a harsh addiction. 

It didn’t help that my doting father watched me like an omniscient hawk every time I came within a ten foot radius of that damn basement. 

“I’m going to the Hilltop in the morning to help Maggie with some things. You want to come? You haven’t seen her in a while.” I knew what my dad was doing. He was trying to get me away from Alexandria for a few days to ease his worried mind. 

“No, thanks, I don’t feel like traveling.” My voice was detached as I stocked the items in the pantry. This used to be Olivia’s job until she was ‘promoted’ to more agreeable tasks. Another terse sigh drifted from behind me. He was aware of my hidden meanings just as much as I was of his. “Tell Maggie I say hello, though.” When he went to the Hilltop he was always gone for at least the night. I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to stay here unsupervised. 

There was a silence between us that I filled with the clinking of glass jars and shuffling of cardboard boxes. “I heard Brandon’s been asking about you. Maybe you should give him a chance and get to know him better.” He tried an alternative - and desperate, if you ask me - tactic to drag me out of temptation’s steadfast grasp. 

I hid my scoff with the heavy drop of a can of peaches on the shelf. Brandon was a few years older than me and didn’t know the difference between a rifle and a shotgun. He showed up at Alexandria shortly after Negan was taken into custody and I refused to reciprocate his commiserable attempts to get to know me. Plus, he was a blonde and I hated blondes. 

“I’d rather not.” To show my distaste for his suggestion, I over exaggerated the shaking of my head.

For the first time in a while, he chuckled and clapped his hand over my shoulder. “You’re as stubborn as your mother.” Knowing he wasn’t going to change my mind he let the matter drop like a dead man with a bullet in his head. “Just-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stay out of trouble.” I laughed quietly and he smiled back before mussing my hair with a paternal kiss. 

 

\---

 

The next evening, I walked into my now nearly empty house and slammed the door shut behind me. With a quick twist of the lock, I made sure I wouldn’t be having any company for the rest of the night. I had spent all day helping everyone else with their problems and I ended it after a trying two hours of attempting to fix a car with Tara. My face was smudged with grease, I smelled like an auto shop and there was a new tear in my jeans thanks to a sharp, gouging piece of metal that nearly sliced my leg open because someone had forgotten to properly dispose of it in the garage we were in. All I wanted to do was take a shower, eat dinner, and go to bed. 

I trudged up the stairs, grumbling all the while, until I made it to the open door of my bedroom.

As soon as I closed it, and before I could turn the light on, a hand was placed over my mouth and I muffled a scream into it. “Fuck, relax, doll. It’s just me.” Negan had me pressed against him and could probably feel my heart racing against his chest. I pried his hand away from my mouth and he chuckled. 

“Jesus, fucking fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hissed. 

“Didn’t wanna scare you and have someone running over here because they heard you screaming.” He let go of me and flicked the light on in my bedroom. He had been in here before, many months ago, when he showed up at our gates to pick and choose what he wanted from everyone’s homes. 

“Most fucking people just say hello.” I muttered with my hand over my chest. “What are you doing up here? How did you get out?” I should have been running for a gun but I had little to no reason to believe that he wanted to kill me. If that was the case, I’d have been dead already. 

“What’s-her-face forgot to lock my cell before she left for the night.” He almost sounded bored. “And at first, I was gonna stay down there to show Rick-the-prick how fucking trustworthy I can be while he's gone but then I started thinking about our little chat and how no one’s treated your ass to a proper fucking date.” He grinned and his eyes lit up with victorious joy over the fact that I had yet to kick him out of my room. “So here I am to do you a fucking long overdue service.” I never realized how much taller he was than me until he stood just a few inches away. “And all cards on the table, I was also hoping to relieve a bit of this tension we got going on between us.” 

I swallowed my heart back down my throat. “What tension?” What tension? I laughed inwardly at my own question. 

He seemed just as confused. “Ya know, the fact that I wanna screw your brains out and you want me to screw them back in?” He motioned to the space between us and looked me over. He caused me to bite my slightly parted lip when he ran his tongue across his own lips and caught it between his teeth. You may as well have stuck a bright red bow on my head and sent me down to hell for all the sinful things going through my mind because I was done for.

“Oh, that tension.” 

“Yeah,  _ that _ tension.” He seemed pleased that we were reading off the same page. “Now go get your ass in the shower, get cleaned up and meet me downstairs because I’m fucking making you dinner.” I felt I had no choice in the matter. Normally, I hated being told what to do but coming from him, I didn’t mind it so much. I blinked a few times, in a pleasantly confused daze, and nodded my head as I continued on my previous path to the shower. That dark condescending laugh of his made my cheeks burn and I silently thanked Olivia yet again for her wonderfully timed lack of attention to detail. 

 

Feverishly, I scrubbed the car grease and sweat off my body in the shower and rinsed the shampoo out of my hair so quickly that there was still some coconut scented soap tangled in my dark locks by the time I got out. I nearly tripped getting out of the shower and I told my overzealous mind that I needed to calm down or else I was going to hurt myself. Was I putting too much trust into his words? Probably. Did I care that this could all be a trap to get back at my dad in exchange for some intimate human contact? Not in the slightest. 

I towel dried my hair, stepped into a pair of black athletic shorts and slipped a dark t-shirt over a sports bra before gathering my thoughts and stumbling downstairs to the kitchen. 

At the sound of my still damp feet pattering against the wooden floor he turned from the stove and rocked back on his bare heels. “Holy goddamn.” A low whistle of approval came from him. “Look at you.” He put the spoon in his hand back in the pot. “You are beautiful as hell, doll.” I watched him with bated breath as he brushed his thumb over his bottom lip and took a step towards me. 

“You’re charming and you can cook?” I stepped gingerly around him to the stove. He had a few pots on the burners, one with water and one with what looked like fresh tomato sauce. “Smells good.” I complimented cooly. In actuality, I was a little more than impressed by his dedication. 

“Oh, I can do a lot more than that.” He stepped beside me to stir the pot to keep the contents from burning and sticking to the bottom. “Wanna taste?” He held a spoonful to my lips and I swear he damn near growled in satisfaction when I let him slide the spoon in my mouth. “Good ain’t it?” I nodded weakly. If his plan was to seduce me over a spaghetti dinner, he was doing a damn good job at it. “Why don’t you go sit down. Shouldn’t be much longer.” I didn’t think his voice could get any more enticing than it already was but it did. Assuming I would do as he said, he turned back to his work and left me to make my way to the kitchen table that already had a couple of napkins neatly set out beneath some silverware. 

How could a guy like him be a former baseball bat wielding murderer? 

I sat down and pushed my hair back. A few missed droplets of water on my split ends dripped down my neck and under my shirt as I listened to him move around the kitchen. He was at ease as he searched for something to drink in the fridge; it was almost as if he had been living upstairs the whole time rather than in a cell. 

“Did you have a good day?” He set a glass of water down in front of me that I instantly clung to like a flotation device in my dark sea of thoughts. I was almost afraid to look up at him, knowing I’d see one of his infamous smiles, but I did anyway.

“I’ve had better.” It was hard not to stutter when he was openly eyeing the exposed skin of my upper thigh. “Did you?” With a clearing of my throat, his gaze flickered back to my face. He grinned. 

“It’s about to be fan-fucking-tastic.” He set his beer down beside my more innocuous drink and went to check on the pasta he had added to the boiling pot of water. Upon his return, he had a small plate of cooked noodles with the sauce messily poured on top in each hand. Aside from it smelling heavenly, it was nice to not have to make dinner for myself after my long day. 

“Thank you.” Under the table, I was nervously wringing my fingers on top of my lap as he placed the dish in front of me.  

“You're very fucking welcome.” He tilted his head to the side with a bright cocky smile and I became acutely aware of the aforementioned tension between us when he touched his hand to my arm before taking a seat across from me. 

It was like breaking apart two cemented bricks when I tried to pry my hands away from each other so I could get to my fork. The wooden chair, that my dad usually occupied for every evening meal, protested loudly over the floor when Negan pulled it away from the small circular table to sit down. 

I steadied the shaking of my hand enough to twirl some pasta on the fork and take a bite. Wiping off some of the sauce that stuck to my lips with the napkin, I hummed in appreciation. “You never said anything about how good of a cook you are.” I tried to instigate a placid conversation between us but he wasn’t having it.

“Well, you never came to visit me dressed like that so I suppose we still have some secrets left between us.” In the most presumptuous way, he mimicked my actions and smiled smartly when my cheeks turned a rosey pink. It wasn’t entirely intentional, my choice of clothes. But in my defense, my brain had been a bit fogged over with a naive, impulsive hope that maybe I would finally be able to experience some sort of rebellious, reckless trip down the road of bad decisions. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned towards me. “Tell me something, doll, did you wear that for me?” His whisper was made to take me down the path of no return and heaven help me, I didn’t see any other way to go. 

“You did make dinner for me.” I deflected his query - and my slight embarrassment that I may have chosen shorts over pants due to the fact that there was no longer a prison cell between us - with a shy shrug. He exhaled sharply through pursed lips.

“Then in that case,” he pushed our plates to the side and stood up with his palms flat against the table, towering over me. “Should I fuck you up against the wall or bend you over this table and have you call  _ me _ daddy for a change?” At that moment I had forgotten how to breathe. Never in my life had I been talked to so salaciously. 

“Beds are nice.” Shakily, I countered his offer, even though part of me was dying to go the more lecherous route. 

“Yeah, they are.” He agreed with a dark smile as he made his way over to me just to pull back the chair that I couldn't seem to move from. I was starting to see why I was told to stay away from him. The way he was looking at me...Like he wanted to give me everything I'd ever wanted and then some...I would've done whatever he said we were gonna do without a second thought. “Not for what I'm gonna do to you, though.” With all the gentleness he could manage in his impatient grasp, he pulled me up to him by my arm. 

With my back against his chest and his hand wrapped tightly around my arm, I was cornered. “What about dinner?” I couldn't seem to stop myself from stalling the inevitable but I was quickly running out of excuses. 

His lips brushed against my ear. “Do you really care about eating dinner right now?” Considering the fact that I was more focused on how hot my skin felt under the tips of fingers, it was safe to say that his thoughtful dinner was the last thing on my mind. 

“No.” I glanced up at him just to breathe a cheeky smile. I had been foolish enough to test the waters, might as well jump in. “We can still use the table though.” 

“Fuck yes we can.” A genuine smile graced his cocky expression before he used his other hand to roughly push my head to the side until my lips met his. Knowing that everything I was doing was wrong made his fervid and demanding touch more compelling. He wasted no time in relieving me of my shirt and letting his hands drift down my sides until they met the hem of my shorts. I couldn’t really remember the last time someone had seen or touched my bare skin like this and it made me shiver. 

I turned to face him and returned the favor of messily attempting to take his shirt off, even though I was barely able to reach high enough to pull it up and over. He met me halfway and helped me toss his white tee to the floor before pulling me back to him with his hands gripping my waist. Not knowing what to do with my own hands, I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him back as he started walking us back towards the fridge. I squealed into his mouth when the cold stainless steel shocked my feverish skin. 

“Fuck the table.” His breathing was noticeably harsh when he moved his mouth to bite down on the delicate skin beneath my ear before kissing at the bruise he created a few times over. I arched my back off the cold fridge and my hips against his for the friction that I felt I so badly needed. He moved against me and pinned me back against the door of the fridge once more and I moaned with impatience as he seemed to be in his own world as he kissed down to my collarbone. “Give me a minute, doll, I’m just enjoying myself.” 

Instead of arguing with him, I started undoing the button on his jeans until there was enough room for my hand to slip under the denim and over his crotch to try and convince him to move things along. He groaned at the contact and started pushing his jeans off his hips for me. I bit down on his lip to thank him which earned me an artful, impish smile. 

“I’m gonna have some fun with you, babydoll.” He informed huskily after he got my shorts out of his way and lifted me off my feet, high enough for me to wrap my legs around him. I nodded breathlessly and kissed his open mouth and teased his tongue with mine. He tasted dark and sweet like the forbidden desire that he was. 

My fingers were knotted in his hair and my eyes were closed in intoxication when I realized that someone was furiously knocking on the front door. He didn’t seem bothered by the distraction but was annoyed when I stopped giving him my undivided attention. 

“I should get that.” I tried to speak but his hand released its grip on my backside to hold my jaw in place so he could kiss me hard on the mouth to keep me quiet. 

“They’ll leave.” He muttered. I stifled another frustrated moan when he moved his body against mine in a way that made me wish there was nothing between us. 

Nonetheless, the incursion continued. “Chastity! It’s Olivia! Please open the door!” 

He growled angrily. “Fucking fuck.” He abruptly dropped me to my feet. “You have two minutes to get her out of here.” Something about his anger made me weak in the knees and the heat between my legs ache. 

“I’ll take care of it.” I huffed, bending down to grab my shirt and pull my shorts back up. My hair was probably a mess and I could feel the bruises on my neck as I went to the door. “What is it, Olivia?” I cracked it open just enough to see her with her flushed cheeks and wildly terrified eyes. 

“Oh, God, Chastity, you’re okay!” She gasped.

“Why wouldn’t I be, Olivia?” I was trying to be polite but she was really putting a damper on my evening. As I kept most of my body hidden behind the thick wooden door, I felt him walk up beside me, his hand tugging on my shirt as I reminder that I was on a strict time limit. Even if he was no longer the fearsome leader of a community, I still didn’t want to push my luck with his temper. 

“It’s just, I think I forgot to lock Negan’s cell before I left and I was so worried that something happened to you.” Oh, so  _ now _ she remembers. 

“No, everything’s fine, he’s fine, I’m fine, thanks for checking.” I tried closing the door but she kept talking. 

“Are you okay? You seem a little..” She couldn’t seem to find the words to describe the fact that I had a lust driven man that my father hated with a passion trying to seduce me while behind an open door. 

“I’m fine, Olivia. Just tired.” My teeth were clenched as I tried to keep my voice even. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Without having the decency to wait for a reply, I shut the door on her and locked it again. At this rate I was going to have to barricade it with a bookcase to make sure I wouldn’t be bothered. 

“Nice job, doll.” He was still in nothing but his boxer-briefs. “Let’s get you back out of those fucking clothes.” He reached for me but I stopped him.

I smiled. “Upstairs. Less noise.” 

When we were back in my room, he stripped me back down to the bare essentials and pushed me down on my unmade bed. He held himself above me as he parted my lips with a heated kiss and pinned my arms on either side of my head so he could slowly kiss down my chest. Everything about him was rough and selfish, almost, but I was borderline obsessed with the way the scruff on his jaw scratched at my skin and how the grip he had on my wrists made it hard to do anything but move my hips against him as his kisses made their way down my stomach. 

His teeth pulled the thin lace-like fabric that clung to my waist down off my hips and the breath of anticipation I was holding made my lungs burn. Knowing he was slowly chipping away at my sanity, he breathed a quiet laugh against the inside of my thigh before he used his tongue to persecute the most sensitive part of me. I tried to move and find some reprieve from his coercions but he kept me in place with his infallible grip on my arms.

Just until I couldn’t take anymore, he kissed his way back up to me and nudged my head to the side and nipped at my earlobe. “You’re gonna have to get the keys to my cell so we can do this more often.” 

I smiled the same mischievous smile that he always gave me. “How about tomorrow night?” 

“It’s a date.” 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was anticipating doing a much better/more detailed job with this but we have been severely short staffed at work these past few weeks and with my classes starting on Wednesday I didn't have the time or energy to add more without it becoming sloppy. 
> 
> Anyway, I enjoyed writing it so it fulfilled my purpose for me and hopefully you enjoyed it too.
> 
> As always, hope you all have a wonderful day wherever you are and thanks for reading!


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